


Pain

by Hells_Ice_Heavens_Fire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crazy Harry Potter, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-24
Updated: 2008-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hells_Ice_Heavens_Fire/pseuds/Hells_Ice_Heavens_Fire
Summary: Harry goes mad, the Order betrays him, and Harry's only chance at sanity comes in the form of the Dark Lord. This is more like a plot bunny that was half formed.This is being posted here for archival purposes.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Kudos: 43





	Pain

It was night when he woke. In another room he could hear voices arguing. Looking around he realized where he was: The Order of the Phoenix’s London Headquarters. During his sixth year, Narcissa Malfoy broke the charms around Sirius’ childhood home using all the blood in her body, the house recognized her as a Black and opened the house to her; the Fidelius Charm was rendered useless.

Eventually, some voices floated out into his little corner.

“He killed all three of them!”

“We don’t have any proof of that! He’s just sixteen years old-”

“He’s almost seventeen! That means he could be sentenced to Azkaban.”

Great, he was being blamed for something. Something involving three dead…shit. He killed the Dursley’s and the Order knew. He was screwed.

It was bad enough that the Order was getting increasingly hostile towards him, mostly because he kept trying to pursue a friendship with Draco Malfoy, but for them to actually be arguing over whether or not to send him to Azkaban…

He had to get out of here. Thankfully, the ringing had subsided into silence.

* * *

His head pounded.

_It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it_ _**hurt** _ _._

He had to find Lucius Malfoy, he had too.

He clenched his teeth as the searing pain raced through his head. He could feel the palm of his own hand digging into the side of his head. He opened his eyes, he wasn’t aware he had closed them, and looked around Knockturn Alley. He had to find Lucius Malfoy.

There! There, there, there, there, there! His fingers gripped the older man’s impeccable robes.

“Malfoy, could you take me to your Lord Voldemort?” His head hurt, his head hurt, his head hurt. He needed, needed, needed, needed Lord Voldemort. He saw Lucius Malfoy’s lips move, but didn’t hear what he said. And then they were gone.

* * *

Harry was tired, so very tired. He was tired of the whispers of society, he was tired of the Order’s growing hostility, and he was tired of having to take Vernon Dursley’s shit. He was tired of hearing his aunt’s voice screaming at him every moment of the day, he was tired of seeing his cousin eat when he couldn’t, and he was tired of his uncle’s lectures about how selfish he was being.

He was tired, and he just didn’t care anymore. Ever since Sirius fell through the Veil, a soft bell seemed to ring in the back of his mind, even through his sixth year of school. The ringing was ignorable when he was awake, but when he slept it became a deep sound, hollow and loud.

And right now, that ringing had upgraded to a high pitched squeal: it was not ignorable now.

A squelching sound abruptly stopped whatever his uncle was saying. He was vaguely aware of Petunia screaming and Dudley running towards him. Then red, and then darkness.

* * *

Hogwarts was a different place when you spent all your time in the dungeons. Luckily for Harry, Draco was more then happy to ferry his work to and from classes. The Order could do nothing to him; the Minister of Magic had removed Dumbledore from his post, again, and replaced him with Lucius Malfoy. Now the only thing he had to worry about was the fact that everyone he was in contact with wanted him to join the Dark Lord, whom he was still adamantly against.

Though why he was still adamantly against him was a mystery.

He was pulled from his musings by the renewed ringing in his head. He might as well have had Big Ben ringing between his ears. The hollow dongs were going to drive him mad, he was sure of it. He closed his eyes, deciding to try to meditate the pain away. Ten minutes later, the shrill ringing was back and he could remember crushing Vernon Dursley’s body like it was nothing. He could remember ripping Dudley’s limbs off, remember hearing him screaming and crying. He remembered how Petunia had begged for her pathetic life before he…nothing. The shrill was dying and he numbly realized he was bent over, panting. He closed his eyes to try and think of something to distract him.

Nothing came to mind, so he got up and started to pace. The more he tried to think about something, the more nothing came. The soft ringing of a bell was starting to sound, warning signs of worse to come. He threw himself onto Draco’s bed, face down, and took a frustrated intake of air.

Draco’s sheets smelt like the blond, a cross between damp air and ginger. A peculiar smell indeed, but something about it made Harry’s blood sing. Of course, it also had the added effect of silencing the damned ringing.

“Harry, there is a Weasel here to see you.” Draco’s voice sounded from the doorway, Harry turned his head towards it. Ron was standing next to Draco, an odd sight indeed. Ron was his first friend ever, he was special…He turned his gaze back to Draco.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Draco’s voice was soft as he walked back out of his room.

* * *

Hermione and Ron were the reason Harry got out of Draco’s rooms and spent time in the Slytherin common room. Hermione had told him early on, that she was spying on him to Dumbledore and the Order. The other Slytherins had been confused on why she would tell Harry that information. She had said that it was because she was his friend, that she cared about him, and didn’t want the Order to kill him or hurt him; that’s why she told him that she was a spy.

That loyalty guaranteed her amnesty from all the Slytherin students. But outside the of the dungeon walls, things were getting more hostile.

* * *

The beginning of the end happened so fast, it was literally overnight.

Draco was used as bait to get Harry out of the Slytherin dungeons. Harry never did find out what the Order used to control Draco that night, but he did know what they used to kill him. The Malfoy heir never stood a chance against the killing curse.

The next few minutes were a mess of curses and magic and screaming. And the noise, the ringing in his head was unbearable, so unbearable that his body refused to put up with it a moment longer. He fell into unconsciousness easily.

* * *

He knew Lord Voldemort was shocked, he could sense it, but he didn’t care. His head hurt, his head hurt, his head hurt.

He was hardly aware of walking to the throne the Dark Lord was lounging in. All he knew was that when he threw himself onto Lord Voldemort’s lap, the pain lessened.

“It hurts, it hurts, my head.” His muttered voice shocked the Dark Lord out of immobilization. A hand with long fingers started to card through his hair, gentle, comforting.

“Potter, are you aware you are clinging to the Dark Lord?” Voldemort-no Tom- sounded confused, wary maybe. Harry nodded, his chin brushing Tom’s crotch, it seemed to like the attention. A roar of pain made Harry moan and that was when he felt the Dark Lord invading his mind, trying to find out just what the fuck was going on.

He saw himself murder the Dursley’s again. He saw Hermione’s death at the hands of Remus again-she always had asked too many questions. He saw Dumbledore and the Order try to kill him again. He saw himself kill Mrs. Weasley in rage again-revenge for Ron. He saw Ron’s lifeless corpse again-Ron tried to protect him from the Order. He saw the Department of Mysteries again, Tom had such a calming feel, and Sirius fell through the Veil.

The roar of pain clouded his senses for a while and when he became aware of himself again he was in a different place. He was spread out on a large bed, clinging to Tom as the older man tried to devour him. With every sweep of Tom’s hands the pain in his head was starting to lessen. Harry moaned into Tom’s mouth, this time in pleasure.

A finger wormed its way inside Harry as Tom shifted his mouth to Harry’s neck. The pain was less, barely even there. He arched his back as Tom shoved three fingers inside Harry suddenly. That shouldn’t feel so good, that shouldn’t feel so good.

And suddenly something bigger was being pushed inside and Harry was overwhelmed. His fingers clawed at Tom’s back, he bit and kissed Tom’s shoulders as they moved together, almost violently.

Harry was aware that the bed was banging against the wall and Tom was panting and moaning softly. But all that faded into the background as Harry _screamed_ Tom’s name over and over and over and over and over…

And then it was over. Tom lay panting on top of him and Harry’s throat was sore. The pain in his head was gone. He looked at his hands and found blood on his fingers. As he started to lick the blood off Tom looked at him hungrily.

Very soon he was screaming again, only this time he was tied to the bed.

* * *

“But why do we have to encase him in ice? Wouldn’t it be easier to just tie him up or restrain him? I’ve already told all of you that he isn’t Dark, but if you insist on this...” Harry was slowing coming up from the bottom of his mind, and Hermione’s voice was the first thing he heard.

“But the ice could kill him, what about the Dark Lord? The prophecy? He’s the only one!”

“With all due respect, this is ridiculous. If he was Dark, he’d hate Muggle-borns like me, but he’s been nothing but kind and normal to me! And look at Ron!”

“Remus, surly you see the idiocy in this?” The ringing was slowly but surly drowning out Hermione’s lovely voice. He wanted to engrave her divine voice into his brain, have it sink into his memories, crystallize it so he could listen to it over and over and over and over in the event that…that she should say too much and be taken care of for it. But the ringing was marring her voice, turning everything into mush and chaos.

“ _Avada Kedavra”_ And then everything truly was mush and chaos.

* * *

Fragments.

_Green light soured towards him, he dodged and ran, mindless, feeling his magic whip around him as if it was tangible._

His head hurt so much.

_Ron was there. The redheads hand tugged him towards a doorway. A woman’s voice, shrill, shouted. And then the green light impacted Ron and he fell, dead._

It hurt, it hurt, it _hurt._ Why? Why? Why?

_The head rolled away from him, red hair tumbling with it. He giggled without realizing it. “Bye, bye, mommy Weasley.”_

He floated, mindless with pain, before latching onto his godfather’s voice. Happy. Sirius arched as he fell through the veil. Pain. And red eyes, furious, as he dueled the old man.

Voldemort. Voldemort would make it stop. Hadn’t Draco always said to go to him?

_Draco’s lifeless corpse. Harry cried out in denial._

Draco had a father. He would lead to Voldemort.

And the pain in his head would stop.

**Author's Note:**

> This is being posted posthumously. Someone on FFN adopted this, the author's name is blackdragonsghost if someone would like to read their version of this.


End file.
